Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Georgia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing DeepChord presents Echospace to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Robert Görl,
Duran Duran,
Nico,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gladiators,
Arcadia,
Donny Hathaway,
Eli Mardock,
Panda Bear,
Aural Exciters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pussy Galore,
Infiniti,
Eddi Front,
Skarface,
Wasted Youth,
X-102,
Popol Vuh,
The J.B.'s,
Monolake,
Supertramp,
Hoover,
The Pop Group,
Roy Ayers,
The Fire Engines,
Derrick Morgan,
Matthew Bourne,
Fluxion,
Althea and Donna,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kaleidoscope,
Eden Ahbez,
Cal Tjader,
EPMD,
The Flesh Eaters,
Maurizio,
A Certain Ratio,
John Holt,
Underground Resistance,
Circle Jerks,
The Tremeloes,
DJ Sneak,
The United States of America,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Godley & Creme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Modern Lovers,
The Monks,
The Velvet Underground,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mantronix,
D'Angelo,
Max Romeo,
The Gun Club,
The Barracudas,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.